CREAM (On the Hunt) (9 page)

“At least I can quit being an enforcer when I feel like it. You necromancers are paid slaves.”

She didn’t like the direction of the conversation. Revealing so much about necromancer life to an outsider grated against her sense of responsibility. “Why are you an enforcer? You looked like you were having more fun at the club. You make a ton of money each night. Maybe not as much as a rogue hunt but you wouldn’t be starving.”

“I like killing people. I became a vampire on the battlefield. After I got out from under my sire, I kept at it. Some legal killings. Some not. Got on the bad side of some vampire hunters before I became a bounty hunter.” He shrugged. “Pretending to be human costs and I got paid to kill people. It was a win-win. The cost of living has gone up since the outing, but then so have the bounties.”

“Even if you’re called enforcers now.”

He snorted. “Humans and their fucking sugarcoating.”

“It’s all about spinning it to the public. The head families and the higher-ups want everyone to think the world is still the same even though vampires are no longer fiction.”

“Hell, at least we didn’t get outed in Bram Stoker’s time. No coexisting back then. He got damn close with that book of his. The families almost sent a hunter after his head and the heads of the entire Van Helsing clan.”

“The necromancers’ guild of the time got to them first. No one has heard from the Van Helsings since. One of the campus books I read hinted that the whole family—most of them high class—ended up in the necro-metal vats. Another said they were just killed outright. Still another said the family was delivered to the vampires to deal with. Whatever the true story, they didn’t survive that book being published.”

“Snitches don’t get stitches in our world. They get dead.” His hand tangled in her hair and pulled so she met his gaze. “Your secret is safe, Jeliyah.”

“Thanks. Though how pathetic am I that I do something like this after two days in the field?”

“Based on the way you were begging for more, I would say you were due for a good lay.”

“You’re not wrong.” She rolled out of his hold and sat up. The date of the last time she’d had sex eluded her. It was well before she graduated the campus and joined Hirsch’s crew.

The trainees were encouraged to seek intimacy with each other. The coed sleeping arrangements all but guaranteed it. Necromancers gave birth to necromancers. The higher-ups wanted babies, recruits they could train from the cradle.

Jeliyah’s prospective partners dried up after she found out she couldn’t get pregnant and her closest friend—the girl she thought was her closest friend—spilled the news to everyone else. The girl had done it to get the boy who had been interested in Jeliyah. After the news spread and the trainers verified it, Jeliyah had gotten her own room and all the solo training time she could wish for, even if she hadn’t wanted it.

She heard Teaghan shift behind her. He probably made noise so he didn’t startle her, since the man was normally quiet, like all vampires. She stood before he could touch her. She needed a shower. The time alone would clear her thoughts as well as help her figure out the future.

She didn’t say anything as she walked to the bathroom and closed the door behind her. The hot spray of the shower water had just started soothing her frayed nerves when the curtain opened. Teaghan stood naked and staring at her. Without a word, she stepped back in the tub, giving him room to enter.

He stepped into the spray of water, facing her. Water cascaded over his shoulders and down his chest. A chest that sported a diagonal, sunken scar that spanned from his left shoulder to his right side.

Jeliyah hesitantly touched the scar. She whispered, “What happened?” He could only have gotten the wound in life because vampires healed everything without a trace.

“You’re right. This is what killed me. A battle-axe to the chest. Hurt like hell. I thought I was dead until my sire showed up.” He gave her rueful smile. “Just think. A few more minutes and I wouldn’t be standing here now to annoy you.”

“You don’t annoy me.”

“Don’t I?”

She looked away from the scar to the rest of him. Tight abs, though not defined, a slim waist and strong legs. This man had been a warrior when he was alive, not some pampered lord or farmhand. A body like this one had been honed in war.

She trailed her fingers down over his stomach, hovering above his erection. Her pussy twitched in response. “You should be everything I hate, but I don’t.” She lifted her gaze to his. “Why don’t I?”

“You’re asking the wrong man, sweetness.” He walked forward a few steps until her back pressed against the cold tile wall.

He captured her mouth with his in a hot kiss that banished the chill of being away from the shower water. Jeliyah wrapped her arms around his neck, welcoming his passion since it also chased away her other thoughts.

Teaghan lifted her high against the wall with his hands cupping her thighs and entered her pussy in a swift forward thrust. His and Jeliyah’s cries of pleasure echoed off the walls. She huffed at the force of Teaghan’s dick driving to her depths.

The first time wasn’t a fluke. All the urgency and satisfaction from before returned in cascades. She grabbed Teaghan’s head and kissed him hard, shoving her tongue into his mouth, greedy to taste him. He took the kiss and responded with hunger of his own.

Everything else be damned. The higher-ups could kiss her ass. Teaghan felt too good to be wrong.

“That’s the way, Jeliyah. Forget them and focus on me.” He moved faster.

“Teaghan. Teaghan.” She cried his name over and over. The rest of her life spanned before her to regret this, but for now she only cared about her pleasure and the man giving it to her.

Her orgasm washed through her, clearing everything away except a sense of utter fulfillment. She buried her face against Teaghan’s neck and tears of joy mixed with the shower water. She clutched his shoulders, digging her nails into his skin, and squeezed him tight with her thighs and inner muscles. He grunted and slowed his pace as he came. His final stroke left him nestled deep and snug. She didn’t want to let him go, to let go of the idea that everything would be all right.

“Just us, necromancer. Just us.” Teaghan imparted those words as he hugged her waist.

She nodded but didn’t loosen her hold. When the adrenaline wore off, when she got some rest, when the world returned to normal, she would see there was nothing to be worried about. Sex left no telltale signs. So long as she and Teaghan kept their mouths shut, no one would ever know she wasn’t the model necromancer.

Jeliyah took another bite of her burrito, ignoring the way Teaghan covered his nose and breathed through his mouth. His exaggerated reaction to her choice of food only made her want to get another.

“Don’t even think about it, necromancer,” he snapped.

“I’m downwind.”

“That stuff is still foul. How can you eat it?”

“Well, I’m sorry I’m not on a liquid diet like some people. Regular food has smells. Get over it.”

“Regular food smells better. That is garbage wrapped in a fried flour tortilla. Month old, sitting in the summer sun, garbage.” He tightened his hand over his nose.

She didn’t take pity on him. The burrito might not smell good but it tasted fantastic. Besides, this Mexican restaurant was the only place on the way to the club—something Teaghan had insisted on since they got a late start thanks to him wanting a quickie.

“Don’t put that all on me, necromancer. I didn’t exactly hear you complaining.”

Jeliyah didn’t acknowledge his words and tried hard to think of something else so the memories of how they had spent the early evening, after a day of sleeping in each other’s arms, wouldn’t get her aroused. Invitation or not, they couldn’t keep having sex. Each time upped the chances of someone finding out their relationship had gone past a simple partnership.

That might be paranoid but she would rather be paranoid than strapped to a hospital bed and bled.

“You done?”

She crumpled the food wrapper into a tight ball and walked her trash to the waste bin. “Done.”

“Let’s go then.” Teaghan stalked back to the car. He cursed under his breath once he got to the driver’s side. “Look at this shit.”

“Are you going to bitch about your car each time you get in to drive?” Jeliyah opened the passenger door and slid onto her seat. She’d gotten better at getting in and out. There was a trick to it. Once she had figured that out, it became less of a struggle.

Teaghan hopped over the door. She hadn’t seen him open it yet. He snapped, “If the fucker wasn’t already dead, I would strap him to my bumper and drag him down the highway doing ninety.” He peeled out of the parking lot and headed for the club.

“Why did he do it?”

“Shoot up my car? Because he was an evil fucker. Why else?”

“Would you forget about your damn car for five seconds? You have enough money after turning in his head—even after giving me half—to get it fixed or junk it and get a new one. I’m talking about why Dumas went rogue. Enforcers have infighting, I get that. What I don’t get is going ‘kill-all-humans’ after a missed hunt. What set him off?”

“Fuck all if I know. The twins were crazy long before they went rogue. They tortured small animals when they were kids, I’m sure. It shouldn’t have taken them that long to kill that rogue from our first hunt. They were probably playing with him.”

“So you show up, steal the toy prize and they suddenly decide to kill one necromancer and then try to kill me? That makes no sense.”

“I told you already. Sense and the twins weren’t friends. They’re dead. You aren’t. Leave it at that, necromancer.”

Jeliyah decided to drop the subject but it still bothered her.

“What should be bothering you is that outfit.”

“There’s nothing wrong with my outfit.” Jeans and a cotton shirt might be a little too casual for the club but it was all she had. She wasn’t wearing that micro-mini dress again. First, it was too short. Second, it smelled like sex and sweat. Third, the people at the club had already seen her in it once.

“Never took you for the superficial type.”

“Stop doing that, damn it. Someone’s going to catch on that we’ve shared blood if you keep responding to me and I haven’t said anything.”

Spotting blood partners—what people called a human and a vampire who had shared blood—was easy when someone knew the signs. The biggest tip-off was the one-sided conversations. It was like someone talking on a cellphone, except the conversation partner was right there.

“My bad. That doesn’t change the travesty of what you’re wearing. Don’t worry though. One of the girls should have another outfit for you.”

“I don’t need a different outfit. This one is fine.” She didn’t relish the thought of yet another micro-mini or any of the other outfits Nessa had trotted out the night before.

“No, it’s not and we’re doing some shopping after this is over. You’re not going to keep embarrassing me each night.”

“So let me stay at the hotel.”

“No.”

“I don’t want to waste money on clothes I don’t want.”

“So I’ll waste my money. Give in, necromancer. The club is going to happen along with your wardrobe change. Your body is on. Show it off. You won’t have to pay for your drinks or food the whole night.”

“I don’t need someone else to pay my way.”

“Oh? I thought you were saving for retirement.”

“A few drinks and a snack aren’t going to set back my retirement plans that much.”

“Every little bit helps.”

“No.” She refused and would keep refusing. She was moving at Teaghan’s pace again. It annoyed her how easily he led her, as though she couldn’t think for herself when she’d been doing it for a while now. They should be in separate hotel rooms and only mingling when on a hunt. He had his life and she had hers.

“Don’t kid yourself, necromancer. You have no life.”

“I said stop it,” she yelled.

“Sorry. Damn.”

She hated someone having free access to her thoughts without her having a say in what they heard and what they saw. Teaghan had control of it. She’d seen evidence of that already. She didn’t hear every thought he had, while some came through as though she’d thought them herself.

The connection would wear off soon. She hoped. She hadn’t taken that much of his blood and he’d only fed on her that once. The invitation might be permanent but the shared thoughts had a time limit.

She rubbed her fingers over her necklace. Teaghan had told her to keep it on tonight. He also told her to stash her pouch of necromes in the car glove box. Neither of them wanted a repeat of last night.

The club parking lot was packed and the door had a line curved around the building when they arrived. The gruesome battle of the night before hadn’t hurt the club’s popularity in the least. True, most of the guests had been gone when Jeliyah was attacked, but she figured word would have spread.

The only thing spreading in that club were the legs of the women who flocked Teaghan the second he stepped foot on the premises.

No need to be jealous, necromancer.
Teaghan’s deep voice rumbled through her mind.